I miss her

I'm home from Montana. My heart is so sore from being at my Grandma's house without my grandma there. I'd like to have a day to myself to brood and mourn and think everything through, but that won't happen. I've hardly had any time alone in the last week, and everything's been so busy.
But. That's just me. On to her.

My grandma was a writer. She wrote a lot of poetry and stories. And I'm glad she left it behind for us, so we could always have those parts of her.

On Thursday my girl cousins and I went through some of my grandma's jewelry boxes. She had a lot of old and new things all mingled together. She liked to keep things. My cousin thought it was because she was a pack rat, but I think it was partly because she cherished things, sort of like I do. Things that seem like junk, really aren't, when you realize she kept it because a grandkid gave it to her as a gift, or because she wore it on a special day.

I wrote a poem, trying to use the same style she always did, and it's not great, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

Grandma's Jewelry Box

Grandma's jewelry box was filled with many things
pins and brooches, watches beads
and pretty little rings.
What delight her granddaughters found
in trying on each piece
along with her old hats and gowns.

And now, the time has come for us to inherit these treasures
and as we look, we discover Grandma's life
was full of simple pleasures.
She loved the elegant along with the bold
so she kept all of those pretty things
and cherished the the stories they told

Grandma's jewelry box,
saved through generations
the great and small, she loved them all
as she did her grand children.